


Letters

by eaudetoilettex



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, rw2015
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-14
Updated: 2015-06-14
Packaged: 2018-04-04 07:59:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4130422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eaudetoilettex/pseuds/eaudetoilettex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"They meet each other through letters."  Rivetra week 2015, day six.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Letters

_Timing is a really funny thing_ —a young woman of short height enters the kitchen, a gentle smile plastered across her features, glancing longingly at the letter on her hands.

 

"Oi Petra, what is it again?" Asks Eld, whom is focused in decorating the rectangular plate of fresh baked donuts.

 

"That time of the week." Petra waves the sealed piece of paper for fleeting seconds, carefully placing back on her pocket from her work's uniform. 

 

"That man is _really_ into you. Has he sent you a picture of him yet?" 

 

"Oh, shut it Eld!" She tries to keep her short copper hair in order, her cheeks tinged in a sweet shade of pink, suddenly the atmosphere feeling warm.

 

"Technology is at its highest point and you keep writing on letters. That's so old fashioned."

 

"But it's interesting." Petra remarks quickly. Her glance wanders around the donuts, pleased at the look of them. "Add more sugar on the last ones from the right side."

 

"You should meet in real one day." The tall man says some time later, after changing the closed sign to the opposite side.

 

"He has never said anything about that. Maybe he doesn't have an interest in doing it." Petra gives a long sigh, her fingers playing absently with the keyboard of the cashier. 

 

"How old is he?"

 

"His name is _Levi Ackerman_." 

 

"Alright, alright. How old Mr. Levi Ackerman _is_?" Eld sits in a chair, arms crossed in a relaxed position.

 

"Thirty _something_." The petite young woman answers in a barely audible voice, embarrassment evident on her face.

 

"Thirty what?" 

 

"Thirty four." She hides herself on the counter table, frustration rising at her friend´s laugh. "Ugh, don't look at me like that!"

 

"So, you're fond of experienced ones, eh? Poor Oluo when he finds out about this."

 

"Fuck you Eld!"

 

.

.

 

It started because of a misconception. One rainy morning, a single letter showed on the mail box. Distracted by one of her co-workers antics and the strange smell coming from the kitchen, Petra opened the letter, discovering that the one who sent it got the address wrong.

 

She would´ve left it on the trash and forget the issue as usual people do, but something inside her told her to do something about it. So, she wrote back; clarifying that the address was actually from a bakery store but before of that, it was an office from the man the sender was looking for. She also apologized for her lack of attention and the guiltiness after reading something she shouldn´t have, and asked for a reply, at least for knowing she wrote the address right.

 

So Petra waited.

 

Surprisingly though, she got a reply back, two weeks after.

 

It wasn´t that much, but the man had messy handwriting and some grammar mistakes; it seemed he wasn´t someone of many words. He remarked that she should be careful at reading things that weren´t for her and that he was glad about her honesty. However, in the last lines of his letter, the man asked about the bakery store and Petra found herself writing back, —again— long splashes of words and details of the place she loved to work.

 

Levi Ackerman lived from the other side of the country, in the north. He described her that he was a workaholic and that he had a lacking sleeping routine. He liked coffee a lot and wasn´t very fond of sweets, but his favorite drink was black tea. The young woman laughed when she discovered he was obsessed with cleanliness, thinking briefly about what kind of awkward man he was.

 

It was a matter of time until Petra found herself smiling often at random times, her fingers curling in delight each Tuesday of the week when the mail arrived.

 

"What did your mysterious pen pal gave you know?" Asks Gunther after an exhaustive day of work, sitting next to her in a table.

 

The short woman glances around, finding Eld and Oluo playing cards in one of the tables. She gives a little smile to his friend, while showing the inside of the small gray package that arrived in the morning.

 

"Just some bookmarks and a little notebook for writing."

 

"You do _like him_ , do you?"

 

"Well, I...uh...."

 

But Gunther has a pleased expression on his face that makes her sigh in abnegation. She's never been good at hiding her feelings.

 

"Then tell him you want to meet him."

 

.

.

It was a strange letter; the one Petra sent him that day. If consisted mostly of ramblings about her work, and the usual weather issues of living in a place when mostly of the days were rainy. She even wrote about her father's health, since he usually wondered about him on his letters. In the end, in pretty handwriting, she thanked him for his appreciation in writing to someone he's never seen, and confessed her desire to see him in real life one day.

 

There was nothing she had to lose after all.

 

.

.

 

His writings simply vanished. 

 

She tried not to dwell too much about it, but she couldn't help but feel a sense of disappointment at not finding a familiar type of paper when she checked on the mailbox.

 

Sometimes before going to sleep, Petra wondered about him, and how stupid she was for not asking his phone number.

 

"Are you still waiting for that _old man_ babe?" Oluo is in his usual self, attempting to have a conversation with her.

 

"Shut up Oluo." Answers Petra, picking a bowl of flour from the large table.

 

"Huh? What's gotten into you? Maybe he's gotten a new pen pal. "

 

"If you keep on—"

 

"Or maybe he is just dead."

 

In seconds, the tall man feels something soft against his face, clearly hearing the empty sound of a recipient falling to the floor.

 

Oluo cleans his face as quickly as he cans, an annoyed look evident on his features.

 

"What?"

 

"You clearly have a problem man.” Says Eld in deep thought "You're just too aggressive on her." 

 

.

.

 

The day was packed with customers to attend, and with preparing a banquet of pastries for a wedding.

 

Days like those made her have a tensed mood, surely, she could be all smiles and act as a very attentive lady, but she was simply an imperfect human being and had _quite_ a temper.

 

"Oluo, go and help Gunter with the cake." The short haired young woman dries her hands with a little towel, adjusting silently on the cashier. She makes a vague count of the money obtained from the day, thinking briefly that even though days can never be absolutely perfect, some bring its own rewards in different ways.

 

"Petra."

 

"Yes, Eld?" She asks uninterested, focusing in writing on a yellow post-it note.

 

"Someone's been looking at you; literally he hasn't stopped looking away." Answers the young man in a quiet voice.

 

"Ah, it must be..." 

 

"No, not that _one_ from the arcade." Eld comes closer, modestly telling her where to look at. Her gaze registers not so far from where she is, a pair of men sitting on a table. The taller one seems to be conversing with animosity, but it's the shorter one —he looks really short, and he's wearing a black coat— that catches her attention. She looks away for brief seconds, then looks again, and finds him looking at her. His expression shows impassiveness, no hint of curiosity or hatred, he is just simply staring. Petra unconsciously tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, and it takes some fleeting glances until the man breaks the eye contact.

 

"Are you okay Petra?"

 

"He seems foreign; I've never seen him before."

 

Eld agrees with a hint of amusement, and pats her on her shoulder.

 

"Well, I gotta ask them if they have already chosen their order."

 

She sees his friend's long, broad shoulders moving through the customer's area, and before she looks at the stranger man from the table one more time, she hears a loud crash coming from the kitchen.

 

Damn idiot Oluo and his clumsiness.

 

.

.

 

Petra suddenly finds herself in front of the men she saw minutes ago, not focusing on their eyes. She briefly registers the blonde man clothing, in rich tones of blue, and from the look of it, he seems to be someone of importance. _Maybe he´s from the law._

 

"I apologize for the wait, it's been a hectic day" She gives the long _well known_ smile she usually uses for politeness. "Here's the expresso you ordered mister." Petra says, putting the cup in the middle of the table. The tall man catches the cup, moving it slowly on his side.

 

"Thank you miss." He has a gentle smile, she recognizes, the light hue of his blue eyes reminds her of the sky after a long day of rain.

 

"And here's black tea for you, mister" The young woman blinks in slight confusion, giving a tiny laugh "How strange, it's the first time someone orders this kind of tea on here." 

 

"He is a man of eccentricities. Aren't you Levi?"

 

But before she could say anything, Petra is already _looking at him_ , the man with the dark coat and she knows her mouth is gaped with surprise, but it doesn't matter, because it's him. _Him_. Her long lost pen pal, Mr. Acker— _Levi_. 

 

She grabs the cup, but her fingers are trembling and in matter of seconds, it ends broken, the dark liquid running wildly around the floor.

 

 "Oh! I'm so sorry!!" Petra exclaims, feeling aware of the looks the people are giving at the scene, and she sighs in frustration, cleaning the mess with her smock.

 

She picks up quietly the broken pieces, trying to disappear as quickly as possible but suddenly, someone knells next to her, putting the rest on the tray she was carrying.

 

Petra looks at him, noticing the laughter lines from the corner of his eyes; his well cut hair and the well defined shape of his nose. He has a calm expression, even though she can perceive his struggling at not looking at her.

 

"Done." The man says simply after finishing, not smiling. His coat is gone, leaving him in a white long sleeved shirt and why does one of his arms looks strange? Is he thinking she's a stupid plain girl? Maybe he didn't find her impressive and she doesn't know _why_ this thought is bugging her a lot, but she feels her eyes watering quickly, so she stands up and leaves as fast as she can.

 

She avoids her friend’s strange looks in the kitchen, but she mutters quietly she already discovered who her pen pal is, leaving the room for taking a walk outside.

 

Petra doesn't go far from the store, sitting quietly on a bench, and she thinks.

 

Someone sits next to her sometime later, the quietness it’s too beautiful for being broken, she knows it's him. 

 

"It's you." she whispers softly, not looking at him, focusing on a pair of kids passing by. 

 

"Yes." He has a deep voice, his wording very little, just as she imagined. But she wants answers.

 

"How did you find the store?"

 

"I asked Erwin," Levi answers, using that pattern some people have with mentioning unknown names "the man I came up with." 

 

"Oh."

 

Silence fills the conversation again, and they share some glances, as if waiting something.

 

"Why did you stop writing to me, Levi?" It sounds like an accusation, but she simply wants to know. Months of waiting shouldn't be taking for granted.

 

The dark haired man gives a long sigh, and looks directly at her. His stare is quite intimidating, and she realizes she doesn't care.

 

"Isn't it _obvious_?" 

 

Her gaze flickers directly to his right arm, and understands why _. It´s incomplete._

 

"Are you learning to write with your other hand?"

 

"Yes, and it's shitty hard."

 

Petra tries not to laugh at his vocabulary, but she understands, it's not easy for him and she doesn't know _what happened exactly_ but she wants to help him. 

 

"That's not an excuse of why you stopped writing."

 

Now he looks irritated, and she thinks he's already done with her but the man simply hums.

 

"I wanted to see you too. But damn woman, you're just _too much_." 

 

She excuses herself the weather is too warm but it isn't, she's blushing so much, her smile growing wide.

 

"Am I?"

 

"Yes, you are. And you deserve..."

 

"But I want to know you. You. For real, I don't care _about it_ Levi." She looks for his remaining hand, grazing hers into his very lightly. He gives a gentle squeeze.

 

"Are you sure Petra? Because I'm not someone who enjoys nonsense bullshit."

 

"I'm really sure."

 

"Then, I'll move to this strange city and look for you _every day_."

 

Petra laughs in joy, her hand still clasped on his as they share a new type of closeness, and she can't help but accepts it's much, much better than just writing letters.

 


End file.
